


Out of Contact

by MizJoely



Series: SherlollyPrompts [21]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 07:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11412714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: stlgeekgirl on tumbtr asked: Drabble challenge, Sherlolly. Could I trouble you for # 109? ("Have you seen my contacts?")





	Out of Contact

"Have you seen my contacts?"

Molly gave Sherlock an odd look, and not just because he'd simply popped up next to her at the crowded farmer's market when she'd thought he was still asleep at the hotel. "Sherlock, you don't _wear_ contacts."

He frowned without taking his eyes away from the massive group of people surrounding them. "How could I  _wear_ my contacts? I'm  _looking_ for them."

Molly had been involved in her fair share of odd conversations with Sherlock, but this one was right up there with the one involving mashed potatoes and the tensile strength of her sturdiest cotton bra. Shrugging both mentally and physically, she just decided to go along with it, casting her eyes groundward. "They'll be awfully hard to spot in this crowd - where did you lose them?"

"Right here," he replied gesturing outward with one hand while simultaneously raking frustrated fingers through his hair. "One minute they were right there, the next…gone."

"Got it," she replied, although she really didn't get it. At all. How could she have missed seeing all the paraphernalia that went along with owning contact lenses in the hotel bathroom? Or in his flat or hers, since they'd started dating? "And how did you lose them, exactly?" she asked.

"Like you said, the crowd," he replied, his feet shifting restlessly. She squeezed his thigh to remind him to stand still, lest he trample them underfoot. "Someone jostled me, I lost my balance and…Molly? What exactly are you doing?"

She'd crouched down to begin the search, and looked up at him with a confused frown that matched his own. "Looking for your contacts?"

He tugged at her arm, pulling her back up. "There's no point in looking for their tracks, Molly, this isn't an old American western. Remember, the crowd? Too many footprints and…"

The penny finally dropped. Molly felt her cheeks reddening in mortification as she said, "Ohhhh, your  _contacts_ , not your  _contacts_."

The look Sherlock gave her was decidedly odd, certainly one she'd never seen before. His brow crinkled as if in confusion (or, more likely, irritation); his head tilted to one side; his lips compressed into a thin line before opening and shutting a few times…and then he laughed.

Oh how he laughed. He laughed like a man who'd been told the funniest joke in the known universe. He bent over, he slapped his knees, he held his stomach, he wiped tears from his eyes - and he wrapped her into a warm hug before kissing the top of her head.

"Molly Hooper," he proclaimed as he released her, holding her at arm's length with a grin, "thank you. You have no idea how much I needed that."

Then he kissed her again - this time on the lips - and strode off, still chuckling to himself.

He never did tell her why he thought she might know who his missing contacts were.


End file.
